Anya through the looking glass (mf)
They lay wordlessly upon the sail for some time, side by side, their shoulders touching. Liam had pulled a fold of the canvas over them for a blanket. Anya's long thick hair was spread over his chest, and his fingers dreamily stroked and twined in the soft locks. He gazed up at the mast: the pure, soaring lines of the rigging perfectly mirrored his present state of mind. Turning his head to look at her, he was lost in the beatific glow of her face.
At length his thoughts became more focused and he was reminded that he needed to get the repaired block up to the mast top. He sighed.
"Will ye help me climb the mast again Anya?" he asked. "'Tis time to put the block back up afore the sun sets."
"Mmmm hmmm."
He rose and re-tucked the canvas tenderly over her. "Wait here lass." Looking about he found his discarded trousers upon the staysail boom. He dressed and went below to fetch the jar of salve. Back upon deck, he uncovered her, murmuring, "Let's put some more of the magic potion on ye."
She let him open her legs without resistance. With a dollop of salve upon his finger he bent close to examine her naked vulva...and was confronted with the splendid sight of his thick liquor of love oozing from her buttered scone and running down onto the little pink star between her bottom cheeks. His cock roused again; but he forced himself to stay on task; he applied the salve to her cunny, helped her sit up, and retrieved her clothes from the deck.
Just as he had done four days prior, he scaled the mast with Anya tending the safety line. He installed the block and ran the jib halyard through it. Returning to the deck he reattached the repaired jib to the forestay, showing her how the hanks worked. Together they neatly furled the sail.
"Well," said he, "'Twill be ready to sail once the wind returns."
"Mmmm." She said. They both stared at the sail, the silence heavy between them.
Liam broke the spell, suddenly turning to the mast. "Let's test this contraption." He cleated one end of the newly run jib halyard and tied a knotted loop in the other end. This he carried to the bow. "Stand clear," he waved his arm.
Grasping the halyard, he ran down the foredeck and jumped overboard hanging from the line. He swung out over the water in a long arc before alighting upon the deck aft. Anya looked delighted, smiling and clapping her hands. He repeated the swing, now from stern to bow. "Oh Liam, do let me try," she begged, dancing about.
He gave her the halyard. "Hold fast ye little goose --- I dinna want to fetch ye out of the drink again." She gripped the rope and ran, mimicking his actions and squealing with joy as she swung free of the deck, her knees squeezing the rope, her long hair fanning out. When she landed aft, she stumbled a little, but undaunted, she ran forward and swung back to the bow where he caught her in his arms and hugged her close. "Again!" she laughed. They took turns upon the rope, laughing and clowning, till the sun set.
Back below decks, Anya excused herself to bathe while Liam hunted through the lockers in the galley for supper. The stores were running low he knew; he did quick calculations in his head to stem his sudden anxiety.
When she returned --- in her evening attire of nightgown and ulster --- she asked if she might cook something for them.
"I didn't ken that fine young ladies could cook," he teased, setting food tins upon the counter.
"My mother wanted me to know how to instruct a cook one day. I think she would have been unhappy to know that I spent more time than necessary in the kitchen learning how to actually prepare dishes myself. I would hardly consider myself a proficient...but I thought I could make a dessert with a few items you have." She reached past him for two apples and held them up.
"Dessert? By all means, indulge whatever fancy ye have. I haven't had a sweet since... I ate the most delicious cunny this afternoon." He winked at her. "I've always wondered why they call Rochester the 'Flower City'...now I ken why...'tis named after your sweet flower --- the most lovely I've ever put my nose in, so it is." Her cheeks turned pink and she fumbled at peeling the apple.
They worked side by side in the galley, he at preparing supper, she at dessert. Not accustomed to such treats, he watched curiously as she fried sliced apples in butter, sugar and cinnamon. Usually she explained, it would be baked in an oven; she hoped it would still be good in a pan.
'Twas dark when they returned to the cockpit with their plates. The moonless sky was overrun with stars that continued seamlessly into the reflection in the mirror-like lake, so that it seemed the
Selkie
floated not in water but in the heavens. They sat upon the seats in the corner, Liam facing forward, she facing port, their knees almost touching. In the cool night air, only the occasional sounds of their forks upon the plates broke the serenity of Nature's beauty.
"Liam," Anya eventually spoke up. "Liam, are you as most men as far as....?" In the darkness he could make out the shine of her eyes shifting down as her words trailed off.
"Ye mean my being circumcised, I take it?"
"Circumcised?" She repeated slowly, sounding bewildered.
"Why I have no foreskin upon my cock, be that what you're asking?"
"I don't understand."
He took a draught of from his cup and explained. "All males are born with a foreskin...'tis like a sleeve of flesh that covers the cock. You've seen a stallion or a male dog, have ye not?" She nodded. "'Tis the same for men, unless they be Hebrew. Hebrews remove the foreskin from their boy babes as a sign of their covenant with God."
"Then that is what is meant in the Bible," she said.
"Aye, so it is. And that be why I have none."
"Then... most men have a foreskin," she concluded slowly.
He nodded. She set her plate aside and asked. "You are a Hebrew? I did not know that there were Hebrews in Ireland."
"There aren't many, lass. My mother was Hebrew, my father Irish. Her family moved to Belfast from Russia before she was born."
"And your father grew up upon the farm? How came your parents to meet?"
"My mother's father was a shoykhet --- a kosher butcher for the Hebrew community in Belfast. He procured lambs from my father, his being the only ones in the vicinity that met the strict guidelines of their laws. He first saw my mother when he came to the city to deliver animals at the house. 'Twas love at first sight, so he always said."
"How did her family regard the match?"
"Not kindly at all. 'Twas forbidden to marry outside the religion. They had to elope, I suppose ye'd call it. Her family subsequently disowned her."
